


Wonderfully Made

by highfantastical



Category: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Genre: Gen, Misuse of Psychological Testing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 17:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfantastical/pseuds/highfantastical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half the fun is in the size of your moustache. Sands and the Rorschach test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderfully Made

_Washington, 1997._

 

"It's two women. Birds. I see flame. The flame of a candle. Skin, the skin of a bear. A fucking grizzly. Legs. Alien. Crocodiles. Camel cunt. Bat."

(Before they met him, when they'd only seen his picture, there had been rumours. Oh yeah, little Sheldon fucked his way in, everyone knows that! But they failed to realise – _cretins!_ – that when you're endowed with blinding brown eyes and a million-dollar trust fund and an IQ of… let's just say approaching 200 (_yeah, modest too!_) you don't have to worry about little things like sex. Just identify the obstacles, just work your way around them.)

"A lamp. It's men fighting. A mushroom cloud. Broccoli."

(He couldn't be bothered to think outside the box. It was so much more fun to doodle all over it and then force it through the shredder. And if you break the shredder and can't work for six days while they're sending you a new one – well, fuck that. At least you'll reach a really high level on lemmings.)

"A chart. A kernel. A butterfly on fire. A kissing pig."

(Okay, so he stood out among all those dingy suits and grim faces. What was so wrong with that? You'd think more of these guys would avail themselves of all the agency has to offer. Half the fun is in the size of your moustache.)

"Don't fucking stare at me, I'm paying you enough. A rubber. A spider. A bird's beak. A mandrake."

"Thank you. This is what you should have said…"

(Yeah, don't cover the card. Point out the obvious. Enough to show you're bright, but don't engage. Don't overdo it.

No problem. _And they expect me to believe this fuckmook went to Harvard?_)

 

***

 

_Mexico City, 2003._

 

"Oh, Sheldon. I have to say I'm a little disappointed in you." He's only on the fringes of consciousness, because he's been throwing up for, oh, four hours or so, it feels like (but the blood still seems to be sliding down his throat), and it made it worse, the pain, it was the last straw when the drugs were already fading (so his ears are ringing like he's in that fucking square again, if he had vision it would be grey and tunnelling).

How did they get here so quickly? _Why should I care, when I'm heading straight for hell?_

"What were you trying to do, Sheldon? You must have known it would never work. The agency's been watching you for years. Don't tell me you didn't realise. Sheldon? Do try to pay attention. It would be very foolish to disengage at this stage in the game. I'm telling you, we know everything that went on. The best thing for you, for all of us, is to talk."

_I am fearfully and wonderfully made._

"Sheldon? What did you want? What was the point?"

_Yo quiero… I don't know. I don't know anymore._


End file.
